Spanish Imposition
Title: Spanish Imposition
Fandom: X-Men
Characters: Jonothon Starsmore, Angelo "Fuck YOU Chuck Austen" Espinosa
Prompt: 21. Creative
Word Count: 252
Rating: G
Summary: Nobody expects the Spanish Imposition
Author's Notes: 'Spanish Imposition' is a real song written by my father ages ago, most likely just so he could make Monty Python Jokes while on stage. There were lyrics to it, but they sucked, and so were lost most promptly. It's probably the only instrumental peice my father played regularly, and is a favorite of mine.
“What’s this?” Angelo asked, flipping through the notebook Jono had abandoned on the couch.
‘s s’posed to be music, Jono said, channel surfing restlessly. Angelo continued to read the notebook, occasionally arching an eyebrow (which caused the displaced skin to drop over his other eye).
“‘Spanish Imposition’?”
Nobody expects the Spanish Imposition, was the only explanation Jono offered.
“Where are the lyrics?”
They suck.
“So?”
So they really suck. Wrote the original ‘bout a hundred years ago. Better off lost in time and space, like Mondo’s neck.
“Play it for me?”
This time it was Jono’s turn to arch an eyebrow. Ye hate my music.
“This I wanna hear, amigo,” Angelo retorted, tossing the notebook to the telepath.
If it’ll shut you up, Jono said with the mental equivalent of a sigh. He dug his guitar out of it’s case and tightened the strings, ignoring Angelo’s impatience.
Finally, he struck the first cord, and Angelo stopped fidgeting. By that point, Jono wasn’t paying that much attention to Angelo in any case.
When he finished, Jono finally looked up and caught Angelo watching him with the oddest look on his face. If the telepath hadn’t known better, he would have sworn Angelo was stoned. Ange?
The Latino mutant shook himself, snapping out of his daze. “Woah.”
Jonothon? What’s going on? You were broadcasting… loudly.
Sorry, Ms. Frost.
Fandom: X-Men
Characters: Jonothon Starsmore, Angelo "Fuck YOU Chuck Austen" Espinosa
Prompt: 21. Creative
Word Count: 252
Rating: G
Summary: Nobody expects the Spanish Imposition
Author's Notes: 'Spanish Imposition' is a real song written by my father ages ago, most likely just so he could make Monty Python Jokes while on stage. There were lyrics to it, but they sucked, and so were lost most promptly. It's probably the only instrumental peice my father played regularly, and is a favorite of mine.
“What’s this?” Angelo asked, flipping through the notebook Jono had abandoned on the couch.
‘s s’posed to be music, Jono said, channel surfing restlessly. Angelo continued to read the notebook, occasionally arching an eyebrow (which caused the displaced skin to drop over his other eye).
“‘Spanish Imposition’?”
Nobody expects the Spanish Imposition, was the only explanation Jono offered.
“Where are the lyrics?”
They suck.
“So?”
So they really suck. Wrote the original ‘bout a hundred years ago. Better off lost in time and space, like Mondo’s neck.
“Play it for me?”
This time it was Jono’s turn to arch an eyebrow. Ye hate my music.
“This I wanna hear, amigo,” Angelo retorted, tossing the notebook to the telepath.
If it’ll shut you up, Jono said with the mental equivalent of a sigh. He dug his guitar out of it’s case and tightened the strings, ignoring Angelo’s impatience.
Finally, he struck the first cord, and Angelo stopped fidgeting. By that point, Jono wasn’t paying that much attention to Angelo in any case.
When he finished, Jono finally looked up and caught Angelo watching him with the oddest look on his face. If the telepath hadn’t known better, he would have sworn Angelo was stoned. Ange?
The Latino mutant shook himself, snapping out of his daze. “Woah.”
Jonothon? What’s going on? You were broadcasting… loudly.
Sorry, Ms. Frost.